Wearing A Gun
by Shangreela
Summary: Nobody wears a gun like Dean. Well, maybe Sammy. But just, you know - MAYBE.


Author : _Lyly_[u]

Fandom : _Supernatural_

Warning : None. Light wincest innuendos if you really seek them out

Author's note : Please be gentle, this is my first attempt in English, which is not my mother tongue.

**...**

**Wearing A Gun**

**...**

Nobody wears a gun like Dean – or at least, no kid does.

Despite of his young sixteen years, Dean's back is firm, solid and muscled. Therefore had he only got a very little small of the back. Yet no one wears a gun like Dean does. His father is proud of him for it, his boy is a well capable soldier-boy. His little brother is in awe for the hollow between Dean's kidneys. The skin here is rougher as if it has been toughened up by the rough metal sometimes engraved. He thinks he can see the shape of the gun drawn in Dean's body, as if it was just meant to be a case for the weapon. Sam thinks it is very cool – his brother is the best ever!

When Dean is in a good mood, he allows Sam to tug down his pants until they can see the line of his underwear and draw this Colt-shaped hollow with the tip of his fingers. Sam likes to touch this precise part of Dean's body, it is kind of like being able to touch a secret. He feels proud that his so brave and talented brother would let him do this.

And when he admits in a low voice that he thinks it is cool and classy, Dean proposes to help him learning how to do it. Sam beams at him, happy to be able to share a new experience with his big brother. Dean promises him they would do it when they would get at least three days off.

-S-W-D-S-**W**-S-D-W-S-

John's new jig drives them at Bobby's. The boys are familiar and comfortable in this place and wander in the old car alleys and the country yard behind the house. John told them they will stay there for two or three weeks.

School time is over and Sam has nothing better to do than hanging out or in the house, harassing Bobby to know if he had extra-school books, when Dean is aged enough to work and earn money. Even if they stay at Bobby's and the older man provide roof and food, their father count on him to subside to their needs while he is absent (again). The young man is aware of it and well-naturally assumes the responsibility.

Dean is well capable of fulfilling almost every odd-jobs which are offered, but he prefers working in garages or in breaker's yards, or playing waiter. The chicks dig the oil-covered men or the handsome waiters with a sheepish grin wearing tight tops.

This is why he walks to the garage store to offer his services two days after they came in, a Thursday. A thirty-years-old man with scratched hands smiles to him and answers while cleaning his hands with a brownish holey tissue that his assistant quits at the end of this week; Dean can begin on Monday. The few following minutes are spent going over the terms of the contract, and they eventually sign by a simple shake of hands. People around are simple and the man knows Dean for all the times he stayed a little bit there and asked for work.

Back to the motel, Dean tells his brother, who he finds in the library fully plunged in _How to kill a Mocker bird_ and Atticus Finch, that he's got three days off before going to work. Sam smiles joyfully; the teen always enjoys spending time with his big brother. Dean sets in the floor next to his sibling.

"Do you still want to learn how to wear your gun?"

"Yeah!"

"Alright. Since we've got no hunt planned, we'll begin tonight. Sounds good to you?"

"Sounds perfect."

"This is not very exciting, you know? The simplest way to learn how to wear a gun is to wear it."

"No kidding?" Sam mocks rolling his eyes as if it was the most obvious thing ever.

"I'm serious, Einstein. You'll wear it from now on to Sunday."

"Non-stop?" Sam asks and his eyes widen.

"You'll quit it to sleep. No need to harm you uselessly."

No need to say that his father didn't find it useless for his older boy at that time either.

"Did you learn this way?"

"Yeah. Dad made me wear it for five days."

"How old were you?"

"Younger than you. Come on sport, go fetch your thing, put on your gun and show me how you shoot."

"Yes Dean" Sam answers quietly while tucking away his book. Sam always answers quietly to Dean, because Dean disguises his orders with question tags, and it's childish and silly but Sam responds well to this and obeys him without complaining, so be it.

-S-W-D-S-**W**-S-D-W-S-

The row of targets stands about 3 yards ahead of him, little yellow points on white painting. Sam was fully capable of striking them all seven.

He aims carefully then pushes the trigger and the bullet shoots. Sam yelps a bit and the bullet miss the target from a good three inches. Sam is used to the recoil of all their weapons and especially this one -Dean's favorite one, but he is not used to shoot while wearing a gun. The recoil shooting though his body down to the gun, making him twitch and push against his back. It was not enough to hurt but not too far from it.

"How was it ?" Dean asks gently.

"Weird."

"Painful ?"

"No. Almost painful."

Dean nods. "Try again."

Sam tries again.

-S-W-D-S-**W**-S-D-W-S-

The night is downing on the country yard. The two brothers are walking to the house, chatting. Dean made Sam practice all his daily training with his gun tucked in his pants. This was as if all the exercises were new. The touch of the gun in the hollow of his back was unfamiliarly distracting and required him to think about how his body moved out and _how_ to move with this new item. This was a new parameter that intervened in all his movements and this was so demanding he didn't see his training go on until Dean asks him to shoot again.

This time Sam hits all the targets on the first try. The gun doesn't move from the recoil because he knows how to stand to absorb and compensate it in order not to be hurt. Dean grins at him and Sam smiles back at him seeing the pride in his brother's eyes.

"Come on, champ" he says waving Sam to join him "I think you need to wash up a bit!"

"That's all your fault, you know that?"

-S-W-D-S-**W**-S-D-W-S-

The water spray is hitting him comfortably. The strength and the warmth of the water relaxes his sore muscles. The only part of his body that stays clenched is his lower back. His skin is sensitive where the gun was placed and his muscles remain tight. It is kind of like the end of a cramp.

Sam smiles and pushes his lower back under the spray. Dean was in his place once, his brother had gone through this. This makes him a little more like Dean.

-S-W-D-S-**W**-S-D-W-S-

The following two days are spent pretty much in the same way.

The first is dedicated to mechanics. Dean thinks it is rather easy for Sam to wear the gun while working at the same time to get used to the feeling. So he keeps them busy trying (one more time) to teach him how to do the basic repairs a classic can need. Samuel leans forward with concentration and listen with attention to all Dean is saying, asking a few questions and asking for precisions. When Dean makes him do it under close watch, he tries his best. It is harder now that he is moving because the gun moves as well and brushes his skin and presses his muscles and it still is highly distracting. He also is a bit sore but this is quite nothing, so he ignores it and unscrews the wing nut with the 10. wrench.

The second day is spent struggling and battling. A shock-wave travels through his body down to his spine and the gun nested between his kidneys each time Dean hits him. The arm, the jaw, the stomach – it doesn't matter. It both disturbs him and gives him a lift, because the gun is a hardness and symbolizes a strength to which he is not used.

The last hours of this day, Sam punches as hard as usual and doesn't hesitate before grasping Dean by the arms and sinking in his back then holding him above himself and pinning him on the floor. His grin is proud, and so is Dean's.

-S-W-D-S-**W**-S-D-W-S-

At Monday on the morning Dean leaves the motel for his first day in his job. He loses himself in the hard work, allowing his mind to concentrate only on motors and oil level.

Time is running out and lunchtime surprises him. The most surprising thing, however, is the presence of Sam in the garage bringing him his meal. It is just a take-out burger with a cold beer and an apple but Sam smiles at him and leans forward to whisper in his ear that _I'm wearing it right now_. Dean knows what he is talking about but can't help thinking about a _quite_ different thing. Sam grins at him joyfully with pride in his eyes and Dean nods then smiles and thanks him for the take-out.

Sam smiles back to him and leaves the garage store under Dean's watch. The older brother's eyes graze Sam. The boy walks like he has always worn a gun. His movements are fluid and loose. Dean smiles genuinely. He is highly proud of his Sammy. His baby brother is good. He is _very_ good. He is even better than that – he is a perfect little boy wonder.

He shall buy him a sweet in the way home… and maybe a small tube of cream, too.

* * *

There you are. I hope this little thing pleased you. I'm not very proud of the story in itself, I think it's a little bit too simple and that I didn't explore the brothers' relationship well enough...

Feedbacks are loved, reviews are hugs ;)

_Lyly_[**u**]


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